Hulk Pills
by SleeplessGarden
Summary: "I am so sick of my left hand looking like a fruit exploded on it after I paint my nails." "Really? There's something Spencer Hastings doesn't do perfectly?" When Spencer Hastings is unable to paint her nails, who will come to her rescue? Spoby fluff.


"I am so sick of my left hand looking like a fruit exploded on it after I paint my nails." Spencer groaned, flipping on the bed.

"Really? There's something Spencer Hastings doesn't do perfectly?." Toby raised his eyebrows and sat down next to his girlfriend.

Spencer glared up at him as she shifted her head into his lap. "Hey! Okay, I may have the IQ of Andrew Wiles and may possibly be the captain or president of every club in school, but this is different! There's no possible way a person could hold their non dominant hand steady while wet liquid is coming towards it."

Toby absentmindedly twisted her hair and gazed down at her. "Well, then why don't you have someone else do it?"

The look on Spencer's face was something Toby could only describe as if she were to cure cancer, trying a million different complex formulas while the one right in front of her is the one that worked in the end. It was clear this had never bothered to cross her mind before and Toby struggled not to snicker as she tried to come up with a reply.

"Stop laughing Mr Cavanaugh and live up to your offer!" she instructed, smacking his arm slightly.

"I don't believe I offered. I only offered a situation to your sad, desperate solution."

"Toby!" she pouted. When she saw him not budging, she got up and scooted across the bed towards the headboard, arms crossed. Toby silently got on all fours and crawled towards her, leaning his forehead against hers as he reached her.

"Okay Miss Hastings. I will be your little robot and do exactly what you ask me to. But only for a price." He touched his lips to hers sweetly. He leans back, connecting his eyes to hers again as he whispered in a hoarse voice that sent shivers down Spencer's spine. "There. Now point me toward this oh so important nail polish."

"On the desk. And take off your shirt."

Toby, who by this time was standing by the desk, whirled around and stared pointedly at her. "What? You said you would be my slave."

Not responding, he silently picked up the nail polish and headed towards her body, which, by now, was stretched out in what can only be described as a seductive pose. "Spence. As much as I enjoy this, I don't think it will be very easy to paint your fingernails with your hand propping up your head."

Spencer groaned and rolled to her side, her hands spread in front of her. "There. Happy Mr Bossy?"

"Yeah, I'm the bossy one, Miss "Paint my nails and take your shirt off right now or I refuse to talk to you ever again."

"Which is why I'm wondering why your shirt isn't off yet."

Toby gave her a disapproving look and kneeled on the floor next to the bed, picking up her hands and being careful to paint each nail perfectly, knowing Spencer would never be satisfied if they weren't.

"There. Now your hand is fruit-explosion free."

Spencer smiled slyly, then patted the spot next to her on the bed. "Perfect! Now it's your turn."

"Excuse me?" A bewildered look overtook his face as Spencer grabbed the nail polish from his hand.

"Yes. This is what you get for not taking your shirt off as your slave holder asked. Now sit and take your shoes off. I'll be a good queen and only paint your toes."

He sighed, seeing she was serious and knowing he would never live it down if he didn't let her. Besides, how bad could it be? He could always take it off later.

Spencer hefted his foot into her lap and started spreading the red polish over his toes. "Were you fed Hulk pills or something as a child? Your foot is bigger than my face."

"Oh yes. I got up every morning, dressed myself, ate my cereal, and then took my daily green pills."

"Sounds good, except for the dressing yourself part. That part needs to go." she muttered, concentrating on his pinky toe.

She glanced up at him, a smile spreading on her face. "Tah-dah!" Toby glanced down and was almost blinded by the fire truck color. He smirked, then glanced at his girlfriend's proud face. "You did well Miss Hastings. What's your next task in femenizing your boyfriend?"

Spencer shifted so her legs were propped under her and leaned near his ear. "Don't give me any ideas." she whispered, then grabbed tuffs of his hair in her hands and began kissing him.

It became more and more heated, until Toby was lost in the beautiful human being that was his girlfriend. He flipped her over so that she was laying under his hover, trailing butterfly kisses down her neck until she was settled.

As they got caught up in one another once again, Toby began kissing behind her ear, which he knew was her weak spot. She whimpered slightly, then smiled as he began kissing her shoulder. Quickly, she untangled her hands from his hair and proceeded to lift up his shirt, forcibly making him break the kissing as it went over his head.

Toby stared at her for a minute. "Don't doubt me Mr. Cavanaugh. The queen always gets what she wants in the end." she smirked, then pulled him in and roughly kissed him.

"...and then we spent the rest of the afternoon together. I fell asleep, henceforth by that kind of fate that hates me I woke up late. And that's why I showed up with red nail polish on my toes." Toby finished as he laced up the last tie on his work boots. His coworkers stared at him for a minute, disbelief on their faces. Finally, Toby's boss emerged from behind the line of workers. "Cavanaugh, I've seen your girlfriend before. How the hell did you fall asleep?" He waited a couple seconds before motioning to him and the rest of the workers. "Back to work!" the rest of them grumbled and then started letting out the laughs they had been holding in during Toby's tale. Toby stood up and started walking with them, stopping when the boss laid his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Next time son, make love in a place that is hard to fall asleep in, no matter how hard you have worked. Maybe the kitchen counter?" without another word, he walked away, leaving Toby gaping.

* * *

**This is what happens when Bree, whom some of you might know as the talented author of "After All We've Been Through", convinces you to write her a story at midnight. I don't even know.**

**The nail polish was that fast one minute drying kind, by the way. Just letting the concerned readers worried about the mess ;)**

**So yeah.**


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